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Yin Yang
They say everyone is born with some good and bad in them. The ability to do right and wrong and to know the difference. The Asians call it Yin and Yang, and I guess for the most part that’s true. No one is truly ‘evil’ or perfect, or at the very least very few people. Perhaps, the odd remorseless sadistic serial killers but of course even then most of them were usually abused as a child or something. As for perfect people? Free of sin or any kind of corruption, selfishness or greed? Well. Those are very rare indeed. The only ones I know of are Jesus… and my daughter. My name is David Belle and until a number of years ago my life wasn’t worth telling you about. I lived a typical, boring, average, middle class life. I had good parents; Alex Belle and Marie Belle. My father was an accountant and my mother was a housewife. They didn’t have a picture-book marriage. They had little habits that got on each others' nerves, like my mother burning the dinner or my father drinking too much but they were happy. I had a few good friends at school and got okay grades. Mostly C's and B's. I got A's in art and a D in physics. I had three serious girlfriends and a few flings before I met my beautiful wife Rachel when I was 22. We married a month after my 28th birthday. She was 26 at the time. I had landed a senior job at the architecture firm I was now working at and was making more money so we decided to buy a nice house in the suburbs and have a baby. It didn’t take long for us to conceive the child. Only a few weeks. Our beautiful baby was born on the 25th of October that year. It was a girl. The most beautiful baby girl you have ever seen. I thought she looked so pure and innocent. My wife and I loved her. We named her "Sadie." When the doctor handed her to me, I felt the strangest sensation it lasted only briefly and was mildly unpleasant. It was like a small surge of electricity and left me feeling anxious for a few seconds afterwards but I brushed it off, and told no one. Sadie smiled at me and laughed. A warm laugh that would just melt your heart in two. I felt nothing but love and admiration of our little miracle. As the year went on, Sadie grew up; I came to love her more and more. She wasn’t like other children. She didn’t fight or steal. She didn’t get up to mischief or judge the other children when they did. She always spoke kindly and politely. Oddly enough though, I felt quite the opposite about everyone and indeed everything else. I found myself shouting at people more for no reason and sometimes being rude, hurtful or vulgar. It wasn’t in my nature to be like that. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. I always felt bad afterwards. My wife noticed it too. She told me it was just the stress of my job and getting older. I figured she was probably right. But as time went on It got worse and worse. I continued to hurt people and do bad things sometimes I was downright sadistic. I always felt horrible when I did something bad but I felt as if I couldn’t help it. Shortly after Sadie turned twelve, I committed my first murder. It was a homeless man. Tears streamed down my face as I buried him in the woods. I thought of turning myself into the police but decided not to. I couldn’t raise my daughter from a jail cell. Not that I was much of a role model anymore. I didn’t tell my wife about it but she was aware I was changing and was concerned. I had to take up heavy drinking to deal with the guilt. A few months later, I killed again. This time Rachel found out. She was crying when she told me, "I can’t go on anymore. You aren’t the man I married anymore. You’ve changed. You used to be so gentle and kind but now you’ve become a bitter, hateful alcoholic murderer. I’m sorry, David, I still love you and I don’t want to hurt you but you need to go. I can’t be around you anymore." I didn’t argue with her. She was right and I felt no resentment to her for it. I told her I was sorry. I told her I loved her and I told her she wouldn’t see me again until I was better. I kissed my wife and child goodbye. Sadie was asleep. I kissed her forehead and whispered to her, "don’t you change. Stay as perfect as I remember you and your daddy will always look after you." I gathered a small number of possessions in a suitcase and left. Among them a full bottle of Jack Daniels. I picked a direction and just walked. Aimlessly. Just walking to get away and to have something to do whilst I drank and silently wept. I collapsed In a gutter somewhere. Miles from home… or at least what used to be home. I don’t know if it was a dream or a drunk hallucination but something came to me that night. Some being. An angel I think? It had a sympathetic sadness in its eyes. Like the look someone might give a hurt puppy. It spoke. "Well David. I guess it's time I gave you an explanation." "An explanation?" I inquired. "To what?" "To why you’re acting this way. Why your daughter is so pure and innocent. "When you first touched her your positive energy transferred to her. She has no bad nature, no sin, and sadly your good nature is decaying and your dark side is taking over." "What can I do?" I asked, with that same sympathetic despair the being replied: "Nothing." "Except try your best to fight it. Help your daughter and wife as best you can but do not contact them. It would do neither of you any good. Your wife will tell your daughter you have died tomorrow. Your daughter is special and there are many other people and things with the potential to corrupt her. Protect her from them if you can." The being disappeared. Hours later I awoke with the worst hangover I’ve ever had. I decided what would be best for my family would be for me to leave them alone. I wandered the country aimlessly for a couple of years racked with guilt and self-hatred. Regularly killing strangers, shouting abuse at young children, torturing young animals, etc. Sooner or later, I felt compelled to see my family once again. I had to check up on them. Even if from a distance. I started doing just that. I observed them always from a distance. Occasionally doing small anonymous acts of kindness for them such as leaving the money I stole from my last victim on their porch. By this time, Sadie was about 16 and beginning to grow into a beautiful young woman. The local teenage boys had noticed as well. They were always hitting on her and in her naivety she always gave them a chance or thought they were just being friendly. I saw red whenever I thought someone might hurt my beautiful baby girl. I often researched these boys. Spying on them, looking them up on the internet, library records, and even breaking into their home when they were out. I usually got their phone number so I could phone them up and warn them to leave my daughter alone. If they don’t comply, I kill them. I have to fill my bloodlust anyway and I can’t stand to see Sadie taken advantage of. That said I’m ashamed to admit I sometimes kill boys who seem to genuinely respect her. And that’s where my story ends. I’ve been doing this for years now. Sadie seems sad; all her boyfriends keep disappearing and my anger and bloodlust do seem to be receding a little. Perhaps, I can stop… but if you ever go out with a beautiful girl, especially one named Sadie, you had better give her the respect and love she deserves. The respect her ‘''dead''’ sadistic father can’t anymore. Otherwise, you’ll be getting a phone call from me! Category:Mental Illness